


snow white / red rose

by dreadfulbeauties



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 00:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30080841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadfulbeauties/pseuds/dreadfulbeauties
Summary: When he meets Alfred, Günter learns the difference between being alone and being lonely.
Relationships: Alfred/The Hunter (Bloodborne)
Kudos: 13





	snow white / red rose

“So Günter, if you’re not from around here what did you do before you ended up in Yharnam?”

Alfred’s presence is a blessing to Günter in this gloomy town. Truth be told, he’s used to solitude — he worked alone in the toy shop before he first discovered his illness. But there’s a difference between the quiet, comforting loneliness of a toy shop with dolls and stuffed animals stacked neatly upon wooden shelves, dust-motes floating through sunlight streaking over the tiny room, and the loneliness of walking through these dim streets, the scent of dried blood filling his nose. Finding Alfred was like a breath of fresh air. A bit of a frightening one, since Günter’s not one for talking. But a comfort nevertheless.

“I owned a toy shop,” he says at last. “It was in a smaller town — my mother was the dollmaker who ran the shop when I was a child, so naturally when I was of age I inherited the shop.”

The sun-bathed little village he hails from is so different from Yharnam. He remembers waking up daily to the sound of children’s zealous laughter ringing through the cobblestone streets, sipping from a cup of sugary coffee as he planned the day’s work. _I wonder what’s going on back there,_ Günter thinks. _Do you suppose that if — no, not if, when I’ll return, I_ know _I’ll get out of here and go back — I return things will be the same as they were when I left?_

“Oh, that sounds lovely! I assume you crafted those dolls, seeing as how you’re working on something right now?”

He stares down at the half-finished dress he’s embroidering, white threads on soft blue cotton — it’s small enough to fit on one of his dolls if he had them at hand. It’s not the same as plucking from the variety of fabric back in his shop, transitioning all the way from rusty red to deep violet, but Günter has to make do. It’s a small relief, being able to sew when he has the time. 

“Yes, my mother taught me how.” 

He remembers those evenings from childhood, peering over his mother’s shoulder and watching her poke stitches delicately through the fabric. If Günter pestered her enough she’d let him try his hand at sewing. When he first started he’d never quite be able to perfectly mimic the precise, clean movements of her hands and he’d often prick himself but his mother would help him bandage his small fingers and reassure him that it was alright, when she first began sewing she’d often prick herself too.

“You’re very skilled! The detail on the little clothes you make is always so pretty to look at.”

Günter gives a slight smile. He swings his legs against the mattress after he sets down his newest project on the nearby chest-of-drawers. “Thank you.”

He rests against the lumpy mattress, facing away from Alfred. It’s strange, he contemplates, that there might have been a time before when the streets of Yharnam weren’t contaminated by monsters and he didn’t have to chase in and out of dream and reality. The Healing Church might have stood tall and proud once, a product of a traitor from Byrgenwerth if Alfred’s information is correct. At least one person has his back — a real human, not a doll made of porcelain dressed in all her finery (though the presence of the Pale Doll puts a smile on Günter’s face and reminds him of a life before that did not stink so of blood). He misses life before. He misses the warmth of his village tucked away in the mountains, where if he stepped outside he would be greeted by a pale blue sky undisturbed save for a few clouds, and would inhale the scent of fresh-baking bread and crisp pine trees surrounding the squat little houses. He misses routine, where instead of a pistol his hands held a sewing needle or fabric or a paintbrush. He misses safety.

“Is everything alright?”

Alfred’s hand settles on top of his and once again Günter is struck by how different they are: Alfred’s hands fit so much over his own, broader and bumpy with callouses while his are smaller, long-fingered with thinly-defined knuckles. But most of all Alfred’s hands are _warm_.

Though his heart aches, he doesn’t cry. There’s no shame in crying and Günter knows that, he’s just far too tired for it anymore.

“Homesickness, I guess. And for a while I thought I was going to go mad with how I was just wandering through Yharnam hunting beasts down on my own. The only thing that kept me sane was the sound of my own voice, and even then I kept wondering what would happen if one day I just grew so used to hearing myself talk that I wouldn’t even hear that anymore.” He squeezes at Alfred’s hand. “I miss my village. I wonder if I’ll forget what it feels like to really be safe, honestly.”

Alfred shifts so that he can pull Günter closer to him, letting him rest his head against his broad chest. It’s only once they get this close that he realizes just how cold he was moments earlier, thanks to the leaky draft occupying the small room. The pain of homesickness still stinging him Günter closes his eyes, and allows his hearing to be filled with the rhythmic sound of Alfred’s beating heart.

“I’m sorry you’re going through that, my friend. Must be an awful thing to feel.” 

He braces himself for a follow-up of something like “But don’t worry, you’ll be able to return to your village again” and it never comes.

_I won’t be able to return home again, will I?_

“And,” Alfred adds, “I’m sorry if my asking you those sorts of questions bothered you.”

“It didn’t. I just… miss home, I guess.” _A home I’m not sure if I’ll ever get to see again._

“I’m here for you if you need me.”

He squeezes Günter a little tighter, one hand reaching up to stroke at his dark hair. He’s not sure why he’s so certain that he’ll either die or live out the rest of his days as a hunter in Yharnam, he just feels it. But Alfred so close to him, smelling far fresher and cleaner and _safer_ than the dirt and blood Günter’s grown accustomed to, is a small joy. 

It takes some clumsy shifting, but he manages to press a solemn kiss to Alfred’s forehead. Günter’s not quite sure if he truly loves him or if he’s just glad to have someone to talk to — he doesn’t care.

“Thank you.”

He’s tired and a little scared and homesick, but he’s not alone.

* * *

_Hey, Alfred?_

Once he gets a better look at his mangled body lying still and cold upon the ground, it’s back to silence. They had something once, but it’s gone now. Annalise is dead, as is Alfred.

Günter falls to his knees. He can feel his pulse pumping through his hands, the adrenaline that once fueled him in his fight draining away and leaving him cold. If he was able to, he’d cry and scream and curse a god that won’t answer him. He flexes his fingers, blood soaking through the heavy fabric of his gloves. There will be no more nights of being held, no hours carried by conversation with Alfred’s jovial tone to contrast his more quiet one, no more clinging kisses for comfort. He’s alone again.

He reaches down to stroke at Alfred’s hair, the dark brown of dried blood streaking through the strands of golden blond.

_Hey, Alfred… I’m sorry._

**Author's Note:**

> so to those of you familiar with pocket mirror, i guess that my version of alfred and günter's relationship is a bit like the relationship between harpae and the protagonist? i made a really long twitter thread about it.
> 
> it was only recently that i began to ship these two - i mean the hunter and alfred is by no means an unpopular ship, but i do really like my hunter paired with alfred :>
> 
> i don't have much else to say for this one, honestly. thanks for reading. comments are appreciated.


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